Completely Undone
by theshipperlogs
Summary: "Mac, this is not like before, don't call me, email me, write me a letter or anything else…find someone else's life to ruin."
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This takes place after season 1 and goes AU.

It was 2 am and Will McAvoy was once again standing in front of the refrigerator with the door open. Nothing really looked like something he's want to eat in the middle of the night, but after another night of consuming scotch for dinner, he thought that maybe a little actual sustenance would be enough to help him sleep. Still perusing, he heard his Blackberry go off on the other side of the room.

Rushing to see who it was, who he was hoping it was, he stubbed his toe and nearly tripped over the area rug in the living room. This night just wasn't getting any better. He quickly glanced at the caller id and pushed the button.

"Hey Charlie, what's up?" he said casually. This wouldn't be the first time he'd gotten a call in the middle of the night from the director of ACN's news division, especially when he knew Charlie was worried about him.

"You at home?" the older man said gruffly.

"Yeah, Charlie, it's two in the morning," Will replied, leaning on the arm of the couch and looking at the fridge with an overwhelming craving for a cheese sandwich.

"You alone?" Charlie asked. _Ok, maybe something was up_, Will thought.

"Nope, got the whole New York Jets cheerleading squad over and we're just starting a new game of Twister," Will said, flippantly.

"Stop fucking around," Charlie grumbled.

Will reached for the pack of cigarettes on the end table and waited. There was a long pause on Charlie's end. "Out with it Charlie," Will finally said, taking a long drag.

"I just got a call from a friend at the Post and there's going to be a story tomorrow," he began.

"Oh Charlie, those fucking morons at Page Six can print whatever the hell they want about me," Will ranted. "Can't be any worse than Brenner and Nina Howard."

"It's not Page Six. It's front page," Charlie said, his voice becoming more emotional. "Above the fold."

"What the hell, I haven't done anything, that is since that last time I did something. I mean, even they didn't even put it on the front page when I called the Tea Party the American Taliban," Will said, snuffing out the first cigarette and lighting another one. "And we all know how much everyone loved that."

"It's not about you."

There was another pause on the end of the line. Will took a long drag from his cigarette before asking. "Who?"

"Mac."

Will closed his eyes. Didn't the media fuck-offs know that he was fair game but that his staff was not, especially Mac.

"How much do you know about when she was embedded?" Charlie asked.

Will thought for a moment. They hadn't really talked about it all that much. He knew that she'd seen a lot of combat and that she'd been stabbed during a protest, but not a lot of details. She didn't offer and he didn't ask.

"Not much."

Charlie continued, "Apparently there was a high ranking military surgeon performing abortions in a state-run clinic in Iraq to both military personnel and Iraqi citizens, both of which is illegal. And the religious zealots are calling for his head. "

"Charlie, what does this have to do with Mac, was this one of her stories?" Will asked curiously.

"The doctor is being held in Baghdad for war crimes. He kept detailed records and Mac's name is in them. My source has seen the records and they say she was a patient at that clinic in '07," Charlie said matter of factly.

"Jesus Christ, Charlie, no way in hell. This is Mac we're talking about," Will replied, his stomach churning. "Have you talked to her?"

"As soon as I got off the phone with my guy at the Post I tried calling her, but I can't get ahold of her. I wanted to tell her first, let her tell you, but the paper drops in less than an hour and the other media outlets are going to pick it up by morning. Just getting her into the ACN building without a mob will be difficult," Charlie said sadly. "You ok?"

This time it was Will's turn to pause. He ran his hand over his face. "Let me get this straight because there is no possible way in hell you are telling me what I think you are telling me. Mac…got an abortion while she was embedded…right after she left and we broke up?"

"Will, we don't know what happened, I'm just giving you a head's up for what's about to happen. The details are fairly graphic. Everyone else is going to put two and two together. It's going to be news and you are going to have to deal with it. I'm sorry."

"Thanks for letting me know, Charlie," Will said and hung up the phone before Charlie could say anything else.

Will sat there on the arm of the couch staring into space. He was sick at his stomach and his heart didn't feel so great either. He was still trying to digest what Charlie just told him. He tried to think it through logically; 2007, they broke up, Mac went to the Middle East, she was a patient at a clinic where they performed illegal abortions, her name is in the record, graphic…Brian Brenner, she slept with him for four months…

Will's heart felt a though it would explode. It was a replay of the night she'd told him of the affair and he'd told her to get out and that he never wanted to see her again. He'd loved her more than he'd ever thought he was capable. She was the smartest and most beautiful woman he'd ever known and she had been his…she'd wanted to be with him and that had always surprised the hell out of him. That was until the night she'd ripped his heart out and told him that she'd been fucking her ex-boyfriend. Now to find out she was pregnant and she'd had an….he couldn't even say the word. He didn't think it should be anyone's right to terminate another life and if this child was his, he would never be able to forgive her, or work with her, or even look at her. _If_ it was his…it could just as easily have been the other man she was fucking at the time.

Growing angrier by the second, Will reached for his Blackberry and hit the speed dial, the bile rose in his throat with each ring. Finally, she picked up.

"Hey," she answered cheerfully. "You can't sleep again?"

"You haven't been answering your phone," Will said, a sudden feeling of cold enveloping him.

"Sorry, I couldn't sleep either, so I took a long, hot shower," she answered. The normalcy of her voice pissed him off even more.

"Charlie tried calling," he began. "And when he couldn't reach you, he called me…I thought maybe you were with…"

Now she was starting to worry. "Will, there's no one here, I just wanted a shower. What's wrong?"

"…There's a story tomorrow in the Post. A high ranking military doctor is being accused of performing abortions in Iraq. Apparently in between appointments, he used his time to keep some pretty detailed records. Your name is in them."

Mac felt her heart leap into her throat. No, no, no, this could not be happening. This was private, he'd assured her.

"Will, I…"

"Just tell me, did you go to this doctor?"

"Yes, but…"

"Was it mine?"

"What, Billy, just listen…"

"Was it mine?"

"Yes, but, let me…"

"Mackenzie, under no circumstances do I ever want to see you again. I still have control over your contract and you are fired. I will have one of the interns send your things. This is not like before, don't call me, email me, write me a letter or anything else…find someone else's life to ruin."


	2. Chapter 2

Looking down at the rough sand, Will wished that he'd had the forethought to take off his shoes before walking down to the beach. Be damned that it was September in Maine. He was ruining a perfectly good pair of loafers. But when he'd walked down toward the water, shoes had been the last thing on his mind. He'd been consumed by his need to run. Just run, run from everything and anything that reminded him of Mac and a secluded, private beach in Maine seemed like the perfect place to start. An hour after he'd gotten off the phone with her, he'd booked a charter flight, called Charlie, packed a bag, arranged to use the house of a friend and was out the door and on the way to the airport. He'd had Lonnie drop him off at the office so he could pick up a couple of things, thankful that almost no one was there yet. Once they were on their way he'd convinced Lonnie that there was very little danger to him out on an island off the coast of Maine. Lonnie would stay on the mainland and Will was to check in every six hours. Now, he was standing on the beach looking out over the water, watching the sun peek through the darkening clouds.

Will began to walk, no destination in mind, just following the shore. He'd been there several times before and was familiar with the landscape. Pine trees framed the beach and nestled amongst them was a Cape Cod style cottage that provided the perfect refuge for a man looking to get away from his past and for that matter, his present or future. He'd come here when his mother died and it had provided him the solace and time he'd needed to make peace with his past. He'd often come here on the weekends after Mackenzie had left. He'd been walking on this beach when Charlie had called to tell him she'd been stabbed in Islamabad. He'd physically felt the pain of the knife in his gut and had wanted desperately to be with her, but his anger and pride had won out over the love and guilt he'd felt at the time. Grateful that he'd put on his jacket on the plane, Will braced himself against the wind as he continued walking. It was already considerably colder than New York this far north and the first snowflakes weren't far off.

As he walked around the first bend on the beach, Will's thoughts couldn't help but return to the reason he was here; the beautiful, highly intelligent, sexy, duplicitous, and dangerous, Mackenzie McHale, the woman who had betrayed him not once, but twice and who he'd loved more than anything, ever. Just when he'd finally started to feel like the possibility of "them" still existed she pulled the rug out from underneath him again. He still couldn't fathom the actual reality of it. How _could_ she? What right did she have? Without even telling him? She'd known how much he'd wanted to be a father, how much he loved kids, and how much he wanted them with her.

Will picked up a piece of driftwood and angrily threw it into the dark, churning water. The effort brought the flood of tears he'd bee holding at bay to the surface. He couldn't stop the sobs that followed. The pain was almost unbearable. He'd lost everything; his reputation, the love of his life and a child that he would never know. It was too much. He thought about calling Dr. Habib, but he didn't need another voice in his head, Mackenzie's was enough.

When the tears subsided, he was angry. _He'd have been better off if she'd never walked back into his newsroom or his life_, he thought. He'd always thought she'd made him a better man, now he wasn't so sure and he wasn't sure he could come back from it this time. It was too much. He looked out over the landscape. That's why he was in Maine. He needed time, time to think and decide and plan and that was impossible in New York. He'd only told Charlie where he was going with strict instructions that it was need to know and he was the only one that needed to know. He'd also given him the heads up that he would need a new EP. He'd also had his business manager change the number on his cell phone, no chance she would call, not that she would. There was no way she'd be able to face him after what she'd done. He had four days before he was supposed to be back on the air. Four days to decide the next chapter of his life…

Will started the walk back, picking up various things to throw into the water along the way; a rock, pieces of wood, weathered shells. Chucking things into the water was cathartic in a way. Half way back, the sun was beginning to set and the beauty of it made him stop in his tracks it. Immediately, his first thought was again of Mac, and how sometimes on Sunday mornings, she'd wake him and they'd watch the sun rise over the city, kissing and touching and eventually making love. Will closed his eyes and steadied himself. _This has to stop_, he thought, _now_. Knowing what he had to do, he slowly reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and pulled out the blue Tiffany ring box. Flipping open the lid, he stared at the perfectly cut diamond engagement ring. He'd bought it to prove a point, but instead of returning it, he had left it in his desk drawer, waiting and hoping for the day he could give it to her. Will pulled the platinum band from the pillowed fabric and held it in his hand. His heart constricted in his chest. He'd truly thought that the next time it was between his fingers would be the day he slipped it on Mackenzie's finger.

Winding up like he was still on the pitcher's mound, Will threw the ring out into the water as far as he could. He winced as his weight came down on his knee, but it was nothing in comparison to the pain he was feeling inside. He looked out over the spot where he imagined it landed and pictured it lying on the bottom of the ocean. Someday it would probably wash up on shore and some very lucky person would tell every one about the treasure they'd found. His loss was someone else's game.

He set the box on a large piece of driftwood and started walking back toward the house, more briskly this time. Could this be the first step to letting go? It'd been five years and he couldn't imagine not loving her, but right now he couldn't imagine not hating her either.

By the time Will got back to path that led to the house, the light was almost gone. Twilight had set in and in the far off distance, he could hear the baritone rumbles of thunder. He was almost to the house when he saw a silhouette sitting on the stairs of the back porch. His mind raced to entertain the many possibilities of who it could be, the caretaker, Charlie, perhaps the average Maine spook or killer that Stephen King writes about in his novels, but from the moment he saw the outline he knew who it was and as he stood at the bottom of the stairs looking up at her, Mackenzie McHale spoke, "Hi, Will."

A/N: Thanks to everyone for the great and though-provoking reviews. I debated not writing this because of the sensitive subject, but I just couldn't get it out of my head. This chapter is a transition chapter, sorry it's so short.


	3. Chapter 3

Note: WARNING: This does deal with sensitive subjects. I won't give it away, but you've been warned.

This chapter was soooo hard to write and not exactly now I had planned it out, but I hope it does them justice. I didn't want it to be about the circumstances but about how the characters react to the circumstances. The complexities of these two personalities and their relationship are exhausting and beautiful. I practically ship as a profession and theirs is one of the best I've seen in a long time. I need to thank The Newsroom posters over on Tumblr for introducing me to this amazing show and fandom. Thank you for the reviews, much, much love to those that leave reviews.

Will squinted, thinking it was an illusion, but no she was there, sitting at the top of the stairs her hands clasped together in front of her lips, as if in prayer. In the faint light, she looked almost ethereal. She was beautiful to say the least, wearing jeans and a t-shirt and that black leather jacket, her hair down in her face. Yet he could do nothing but glare at her, for her audacity and presumptuousness and her cruelty for invading his space and his life again and again. Looking up at her, he only had two options, he could head back to the beach or into the house and chances were she'd follow him no matter which he chose.

A loud clap of thunder made her jump, but Will stood stone still, not able to take his eyes off of her.

"We need to talk," she began, fidgeting with her hands.

"No, I need a drink and you need to leave," he replied, he couldn't do this now, maybe not ever.

"Will, you have to…"

He cut her off, his palm out in front of him in a stop motion.

"You need to go," he repeated, walking past her into the house.

Mackenzie didn't even give him have the satisfaction of letting the door slam behind him. She immediately followed him through the door and into the kitchen. She watched as he poured himself a drink and downed the contents.

"Billy..."

"No, not Billy," he said defensively.

Mac shoved her hands into her jacket pockets, her resolve waving only little. _If he just wasn't so damn stubborn_, she thought. _Then I probably wouldn't love him as much as I do._

"How did you know where I was? Did Charlie…?" he continued, part of him mentally smacking himself for talking to her at all.

Mac interrupted. "No, Charlie wouldn't tell me. I went to your apartment and the doorman said you'd left with a duffle over your shoulder and your bodyguard in tow. Where is Lonnie, by the way…"

Will gave her a WTF look, made a mental note to talk to the doorman, and she continued.

"So I called Charlie and he told me to give you some time. He and I both knew that wasn't going to happen. So I called Jim, who had no idea about any of it and who also told me to give you some time. What is it with you men and time?... And then I tried Sloan, who was also a bit clueless, and downright mean when she first wakes up…"

"Dammit, Mac, does the whole office know?"

"…and then I called your phone and found out that it had been disconnected. So I called your agent and your business manager, who is also no Prince Charming when you wake him up, but neither one of them would tell me a damn thing. "

"So who ratted me out then?" Will asked leaning against the counter with a drink in one hand and a cigarette in another, knowing there was practically no one left in his life that she didn't call already.

"Well, just as I was about to call your sisters, Jim texted me and told me to check Twitter."

"Sonofabitch!" Will shouted. "A man can't even run away from home anymore."

"Yeah, someone posted that they saw you getting on the ferry going out to the island, then I remembered all of the stories you told me about your time here and…I should have known this where you'd come."

He stared at her for a moment. A very tiny part of him, the part that was his father's son, wanted to grab her and shake her and ask her why she couldn't just leave him the hell alone, another part of him wanted to pin her up against the wall and fuck her senseless, but the part of him that won out just asked her again to leave.

"The last ferry left twenty minutes ago," she answered confidently, pushing her hair out of her eyes. "Next one's not until tomorrow morning."

He just looked at her again. He couldn't stop staring into her eyes, looking for answers. Which was ironic considering he just didn't want to hear the excuses come out of her mouth. This couldn't be happening. A week ago he might have given anything to be trapped in a romantic cottage on the beach with her and now… He poured another drink and downed it again. Mackenzie grabbed the bottle and his glass and did the same. If it was a battle he wanted, it was a battle he would get. She wasn't giving up this time. She ran away once but not this time. This was either the beginning or the end of Will and Mac 2.0, but it would be put to bed tonight.

The thunder clapped loudly again, making Mac jump. While she loved the rain, Mac was about as fond of storms as she was jellyfish. The rain spattered heavily against the windows and a low rumble of thunder was followed by faint lightning. Their eyes held each other as if willing the other one to give in and leave.

"I can't be in the same room with you right now," he said gruffly, wishing for the millionth time that she didn't have the effect on him that she did. "Hell, Mac, I left the state to get away from you."

The dejected look on her face almost broke him, but he remembered why he was there in the first place.

"I guess it was your turn to run. That's what we do, we hurt each other and then one of us runs away," she challenged, her chin up defiantly.

Will looked out at the weather, growing worse by the minute, and said, "You can stay, but I don't want to hear a word come out of your mouth. Nothing, don't even breathe heavy… And first thing in the morning..."

"There was a time when you liked it when I breathed heavy," she teased, but one look from him and she regretted going there.

"Do you ever stop talking?"

"You know that I don't."

"That's it," Will said. He would not let her get to him. He didn't want to hear her explanations. He was done. He grabbed the bottle of Scotch and headed further back into the house, up the stairs and slammed one of the bedroom doors so hard the house shook.

Mac braced her herself against the kitchen counter. She had to get through to him. He needed to know the truth even if he still hated her. Mac looked around the room; it was cheerful and cozy with white painted cabinets and antique fixtures and windows in place of walls. She could picture Will making pancakes for breakfast and kissing her as the sunlight poured through the windows. A large crack of thunder brought her back into the moment. Mac bravely walked to the windows and watched the storm raging outside and laughed. It was nothing in comparison to the storm that was raging inside the house. Flashes of lightning illuminated the outside just enough for her to see the wind and rain and most of all the roiling water in the distance.

Mac walked over to the counter grabbed a bottle of wine from the wine rack in the corner. She found the corkscrew and pulled out the cork. Not bothering for a glass, she lifted the bottle to her lips. A large clash of thunder hit at that exact moment and couldn't help but jump. Red wine ran down her chin and onto her grey t-shirt.

"Shit."

She grabbed a towel and dabbed at the stain. In her haste to get here, she hadn't backed a bag or anything really. She'd jumped on a plane and gotten here as fast as she could. Giving up, she threw the towel on the counter and grabbed the wine bottle, taking another long drink. Between the scotch and the wine, she was already feeling a good buzz going. She needed to stop. She didn't want to slur her way through what she had to tell him. It was going to hurt enough as it was. Just thinking of that day brought tears to her eyes. How she was ever going to look him in the eye and tell him what happened?

She needed to do it. She had to. Like a band-aid, she needed to just rip it off and let the healing begin, Mac quickly ran up the stairs, not giving herself a chance to chicken out. Not bothering to turn on the light, Mac could make out that that there were several rooms at the top of the stairs, but only one had the door closed with a faint light coming out from underneath. She gently knocked, leaning her forehead on the door.

"Will. Can I come in?"

"No."

Mac sighed and closed her eyes. She turned around, back against the door, and slid to the floor.

Taking a deep breath, she sat there. Maybe this was for the best. He was a captive audience inside that room and she wouldn't have to look into his blue eyes as she described one of the worst days of her life.

"I know telling you like this is the coward's way out, but I need you to know the truth. There are only two people in this world that I care what they think of me, you and my father, and I've let you down enough for two lifetimes.

"We were in the Green Zone, prepping to go to Afghanistan. We'd only been there two weeks, but we'd already been involved in a few close calls. Jim said he guessed it was beginner's luck, because every time we seemed to leave the hotel, we got into something. He even got The Green Zone isn't always as "green" as they like to think it is…A few days before we were getting ready to ship out, I went to the base clinic because I wasn't feeling well and Jim wouldn't shut up about me seeing a doctor. That's when I found out I…much to my surprise…I was pregnant. Looking back on it now, I should have known, but I thought my body was just reacting to all of the stress I was under and I was given a physical before I left the States an the pregnancy test. It was negative. Anyway…I just sat there in the room with the poor doctor crying, telling him the whole horrid story of what I'd done to you and how you would never forgive me and that my baby wouldn't have a family, and then it occurred to me that you may not be the father and I cried even harder. He did an ultrasound and determined that I was approximately three and a half months along. He couldn't tell the sex of the baby yet, but turned the Doppler up and I heard the most amazing sound…this beautiful, galloping beat of a heart. It was mesmerizing. He printed a picture from the ultrasound and told me I that to get the proper prenatal care, I should head back to England. Why do people always assume I'm British?

"I went back to the hotel and tried to pretend like everything was fine. Jim could tell something was wrong, but I just couldn't tell him. I hadn't even really accepted it myself. I just looked at the grainy, black and white picture for hours. Finally, I looked at the calendar and determined the week that I would have to have conceived and I knew that it could only be yours. It was the week of your birthday and we took that trip to Niagara Falls. I was overjoyed. As much as I knew you hated me, I knew you'd love this baby. I had a big interview two days later, but after that, I was going to call CNN and tell them they needed to find another correspondent. I tried to call you…but you didn't answer…I spent the next two days picturing your face when I told you and I started picking out names. My favorites were Duncan for a boy and Amelia for a girl….I was with Jim and the Army liaison on the way to an interview when I started cramping and then bleeding heavily. Jim freaked out. It would have been funny if it wasn't so terribly unfunny. The liaison asked me if I could make it back to base hospital, but that's the last thing I remembered."

Mac stopped, thankful for the darkness. The lightning had been growing fainter with each strike and the thunder was barely audible. The only light was from under Will's door and it had dimmed noticeably as well. She wondered what he was doing? Was he listening to her at all?

On the other side of the door, Will sat there with his own back up against the door now, hanging on every word. His knees were bent to his chest and his head was in his hands. He was thankful for the alcohol coursing through his system.

"The next thing I do remember is waking up on a table in a neighborhood clinic, the nurse starting an IV, and Jim was holding my hand. I don't remember all the words, just heard no heartbeat and sorry and blood. The rest is kind of a blur. I heard them ask Jim to leave; that I was bleeding again and they couldn't stop it. I guess I passed out again or they gave me drugs because I don't remember anything else. "

"I woke up a few hours later. The doctor, who I was surprised to see was an American, explained that I'd had an incomplete miscarriage and they'd done an ultrasound to confirm and a D&C to stop the bleeding and remove the tissue. I guess the records for the procedure are similar to an abortion, but you have to believe me, I would have done anything to save our baby…I was too numb to cry and it wasn't until I saw Jim that I lost it on the poor boy. I'd only had two days with her and now she was gone and I couldn't help but feel like it was my fault. Yet another failure. The months of stress and not eating and flying into a warzone, all because I couldn't say no to a man who didn't want me in the first place."

From the other side of the door, the truth was hitting Will like a ton of bricks. He'd immediately thought the worst of her. Then something she said…

"She? A girl?" he asked sadly, pressing his ear to the door as if that would make him closer to her.

"Yes."

There was silence on both sides. Both pondering the what ifs and might have beens and the damage their relationship had caused.

"I never stopped loving you," Will whispered just loud enough for her to hear.

Mackenzie looked straight ahead, not sure how to respond at first and finally pushed herself up from the floor and opened the door. She found Will sitting on the floor on the other side looking up at her, tears still in his eyes.

"But that's not enough, is it?" she replied and walked toward the stairs.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thanks for all of the amazing reviews. Love, love to you all! **

Will watched her slowly descend the stairs until all he could see was her shadow as he sat on the floor. He had two choices – let her go or go after her. It was a simple as that.

Pushing himself up off the floor, his head swam from the quick change in position and the alcohol, too much alcohol.

"That's what we do when the going gets tough, isn't it?" he yelled, following after her. "We run away. To Maine, to Afghanistan, to Brian fucking Brenner."

Mac stood at the bottom of the stairs looking up at him on the middle of the stairs. "I guess that should tell us something right there," she replied coolly.

Will stood firm. "Yeah, that we're fucking cowards."

She just stared up at him, eyes blazing, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Come on, Mac, we talk to over a million people every night, but we can't talk to each other without it becoming World War III."

"Sometimes I think you and I are more complicated than the goddamn news. You don't want to talk. You want to blame. Yes, I fucked up! I cheated on you, for four god forsaken months. It was the biggest mistake of my life. I have apologized ad nauseam and done penance and none of it seems to matter."

Mackenzie turned and started to walk away, but heard a loud thud behind her. She turned back to see Will on his ass, sprawled out on the stairs wincing in pain.

"What happened?" she asked, running up to check on him. She knelt down, one hand on his chest.

He looked at her incredulously. "I fell down."

"Are you hurt?" she replied, trying to stifle a laugh.

He shot her another look. "Only my pride."

She was full on laughing now. "That's a good thing. I can just see the tabloids now – EP Pushes Anchor Downstairs."

"Now that's a believable story," he said, rubbing his back. Mac laughed even harder, using her hand on his shoulder for balance before she fell down the stairs herself.

Will couldn't help but smile, her laughter was always contagious. Mackenzie sat down on the stairs next to him, the laughter finally subsiding. She leaned into him, seeming to forget that just a few moments ago they were fighting.

They sat there for a moment, her head on his shoulder. They could hear the rain falling steadily outside, but the storm had subsided and the thunder and lightening had passed.

"We really are fucked up," she said, looking straight ahead.

Will let out the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding since she'd laid her head on his shoulder. Even her shampoo was intoxicating – didn't help that he was already literally intoxicated.

"Yeah."

"So what do we do? "

"I have no fucking idea," he replied. Maybe love wasn't enough? Could he forgive her? Could he trust her? And if the answer was no, how could he live without her?

"Will?"

"We talk…we fight if that's what it takes, and we do it this weekend, but come Sunday night we either decide to work it out or go our separate ways. No avoidance…no running away," he proposed, taking her hand in his.

"Do you really think we can do in two days what we haven't been able to do in five years," she said, playing devil's advocate.

"I have no fucking idea," he said, as if that were quickly becoming his mantra.

She leaned her head on his shoulder. "If this doesn't work and you marry someone else, I just want you to know that I already hate her."

He laughed. "And you should know that no other man is ever allowed to touch you again, no matter what."

They sat there silently, on the stairs for a long time, her head on his shoulder, hands intertwined.

"Mac?"

"Yes."

"If I don't get up now, I may never be able to get up," he said, flexing his bad knee. Mac laughed and stood up in front of him, offering her hands for leverage.

"Now what?" she asked, standing directly in front of him.

"It's late, we should go to bed," he said, looking into her eyes.

Mac arched an eyebrow and smiled suggestively.

"You can take the guest room across from mine," he clarified, putting his hands on her shoulders and following her up the stairs. Mac turned and smiled before disappearing behind the door to her room.

In his room, he slipped off his shirt and pants. He'd left his overnight bag downstairs and he didn't feel like getting it. He knew that if he left his room, there would be an overwhelming temptation to go to Mac. He'd sleep in his boxers, that is if he slept at all.

Sitting down on the bed, he kept thinking about Mac's voice as she told him how she'd lost their child and very nearly died herself, half way around the world. He'd been a fool for thinking she would have had an abortion and when he got back to New York, there was a certain reporter from The Post that would regret the day he went into journalism.

He thought about the next two days. He wanted to be optimistic, but ,in truth, he had his doubts. He loved her, that was a given, but he didn't know if he could open himself up to her again. Losing her had been the most painful thing that had ever happened to him, and he wasn't sure he could allow himself to love her like that again.

Will turned off the light and laid back on the pillow. He closed his eyes and thought about what Mac was doing in the room across the hall, wondering if she was already asleep. She'd not had a bag with her and he doubted she was sleeping in her clothes, probably just the t-shirt and panties. He pictured her lying on her stomach, her arms above her head. He closed his eyes and played with a memory that had become fantasy over the last several years. He thought of the curve of her ass and her long, slender legs down the length of the bed. Her shirt would ride up to reveal a strip of soft, pale skin between its hem and her panties. But when Will started to imagine kissing the exposed flesh, Brian Brenner was suddenly in the picture, and it was his lips on her back, traveling down…

Will opened his eyes. _Fuck. Fuck._


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Yeah, two chapters in two days! I'm having a lot of fun and feels writing this story. Thanks again for the reviews. I have to put a disclaimer on the Kentucky joke – no offense intended (I'm from Kentucky and live in Virginia).

Mackenzie stood at the foot or Will's bed watching him sleep. He was flat on his back lightly snoring, one foot under the covers and one out, just like always. She hadn't been standing there long. She held a coffee mug in her hands and another sat on the dresser waiting for Will to wake up. She took a few steps closer and sat on the edge of the bed. She ran her hand through his hair and down his cheek. Her stomach flipped. She always marveled at the things this man could make her feel. She studied his face. It had a few more lines and had filled out a bit since the last time they were together, but he was as handsome as ever.

Will's brow furrowed and his face scrunched as if in pain. Mac wished she knew what he was dreaming. Was he thinking of her? Was she the one causing him pain in his dreams. She hoped not.

"Hmmmm" he mumbled, still sleeping, his body slightly turning away from her. He mumbled something incomprehensible and a tear bled from the corner of his eye. Mac's heart couldn't take seeing him like this.

"Will?" she whispered, her hand on his cheek.

"Hear that?" he murmured, not quite asleep or awake.

"What, Billy?" she replied softly, her heart breaking at the despair in his voice.

"She's crying."

"Who's crying, Honey," she said, confused.

Will's eyes fluttered for a second before focusing in on her, remembering where he was. He mustered a smile and Mac's hand trailed from his cheek to his chest.

"Good morning," he said, trying to shake the weird feeling he was having.

"Morning," she replied, patting his chest reassuringly. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah."

"You were dreaming."

"I was?"

"Hmmhmm," she said. "Someone was crying."

Will looked puzzled for a moment trying to remember the dream he was having. There was a vague haze of voices and images but mostly feelings, feelings of utter helplessness. Finally, it came back to him as if it had been as real as she was, sitting there in front of him.

"…I heard a baby crying," he admitted, her reaction.

Mac looked down as if looking at her stomach, sadness washing over her like the ocean waves she could hear outside the window.

"I couldn't find it though," he said, opening up to her.

Mac took just a minute to compose herself, tears threatening to spill. She'd mourned their loss months ago, but she realized that he hadn't and she needed to keep it together, for him.

"I had the same dream for months," she said, finally meeting his eyes. "I would wake up in crying fit. I can't tell you how many times Jim sat there and held me as I realized it was all a dream, a nightmare."

"Should I be jealous?" he asked, trying to smile.

She couldn't help but grin. "No, you know Jim is the like a brother to me."

"Still," he said, trying to lighten the mood. "If you were from Kentucky…"

She picked up the pillow and hit him in the head a couple of good times.

"Truce! Truce!" he said emphatically. "Hangover truce."

She stopped, holding the pillow to her chest.

"I made coffee," she said moving to the dresser. He gratefully took it. She knew just how he liked it.

He sat up on the bed, propping the pillow behind him. His head was pounding and his back was aching, remembering the fall down the stairs.

Mac looked up from her coffee. "You know, I don't have them very often anymore."

"What?"

"The dreams, just every once in a while and now it's a little girl that I can never quite see," she said, blinking to hold the tears at bay.

Will put the coffees on the nightstand and pulled her on top of him. She was wearing the clothes from yesterday. He loved the feel of her weight on top of him. She was long and lean and when they stood together he didn't have to lean too far down to kiss her. She was a perfect fit for him.

Mac laid her head over his heart listening to the rhythm and she couldn't help but be reminded of another heartbeat she'd heard in a country so far away. It seemed like a lifetime ago and yesterday at the same time.

"Why didn't you tell me? When you got back and we started whatever it is that we started," he asked, running his hand down her back.

It took a minute for her to answer. "I wanted to, but you were still so angry with me. I thought you would blame me for losing her, for not taking better care of myself, for not leaving a war zone as soon as I found out."

Will kissed her head. He hadn't made things easy on her since she'd come back. "It wasn't your fault," he said, rubbing her back. "I'm sorry."

"You, You don't have anything to be sorry for."

"If I hadn't pushed you away…the stress and…maybe," he said, trying to string a coherent sentence together.

"You didn't know and truthfully, after what I did, you had every right," she said pressing her cheek to his chest.

They lay that way for a long time, drifting in and out of sleep with the sun shining through the window and a light breeze pushing the curtains back and forth. It was the calm after the storm with the waves soothing the damage left behind.

"Mac?"

"MMM, yes, she answered.

"Can you…can you still…would it be possible for you to get pregnant again?" he asked, not even sure if it was even his place to ask.

Mac lifted her head up off of his chest and looked at him.

"According to the doctor, yes, it should be possible. I went to my doctor when I got back to the States and she said I have a little scarring, so it might take some time, but I should be able to still carry a baby to term.

He didn't respond.

"Do you still want children, Will?" she asked apprehensively.

"I don't know," he said honestly, smoothing over her hair.

She didn't respond.

"Will?"

"Hmm?"

"As much as I am loathe to move, I would love to clean up. Do you have anything I could change into? I wouldn't mind to have a shower," she said, eyeing the bathroom.

"Yeah, take whatever you want," he said as Mac rolled off of him and started rummaging through his bag.

She pulled out a blue button-down and a pair of boxers and held them up for his approval. He nodded.

She held up his toothbrush.

"You wouldn't happen to have another one of these would you?"

"There should be one in the guest bath. Vincent keeps this place pretty well stocked with all the incidentals. It's better than a hotel," he said, watching her leave. _Damn, she has a great ass_, he thought.

Will laid there for just a moment before deciding to take his cue from her and take a shower himself. He momentarily considered joining her, but they weren't there yet and he knew that the minute they resumed their sexual relationship they were in different territory, personally and professionally. He rolled off the bed, his back still sore, grabbed his bag and shut the bathroom door behind him.

An hour later, Mackenzie went looking for Will. He was in the kitchen, prepping some lunch or dinner, depending on what you wanted to call it. It was late afternoon and food hadn't been high on their priority list.

"Oooh, I'm starving," Mac said, stealing a grape from one of the trays.

Will had made some sandwiches and a plate of cheese and fruit. He had also opened a nice bottle of wine and poured her a glass.

"Need any help?" she asked, popping another grape in her mouth and chasing it with the wine.

Will turned around to answer her, but couldn't. She was standing there in his shirt, which covered the boxers, and her bare feet. Her long legs seemed to go on forever. Her hair was still damp and her cheeks were flushed from the hot water in the shower. She looked relaxed and happy and he couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her look more beautiful.

Mac couldn't help but smile as he stared. She didn't have to worry about him not finding her attractive anymore. Will momentarily forgot what he was doing.

"What?" he asked, sitting the trays of food on the table.

"I asked if you needed any help," she repeated.

"Yeah, help? Uh, no. But I think I don't have a chance in hell," he said, taking her hand and kissing it, rubbing his thumb over her fingers.

Mac closed the distance between them, stood on her tip-toes and gently brushed her lips against his. It was the first kiss they'd shared in five years and Will felt like an atomic bomb was exploding in his body. He closed his eyes and her hand went to his waist. She opened her mouth this time and kissed him again. She was beginning to doubt that she'd done the right thing, when she felt his and in her hair and he started kissing her back. The kiss was slow and soft, full of reverence and love. She ran her tongue along his top lip, seeking entrance. He opened his mouth, giving her full access and she reciprocated. They continued, slowly kissing and sucking until Mac pulled away, looking into his eyes.

"Mmmm," she moaned, missing the contact.

"You are amazing. I never thought I would feel this again," he said, his hand still on the back of her neck.

"Me too," she said shyly.

He took her hands and met her gaze. "But, I think…I think we should eat and then we should talk before this moves any further," he said, knowing he'd been down this road before and he couldn't just ignore the fucking nagging in his head when it came to her.

He could see the dejected look on her face and knew that he needed to explain.

"It's not that I don't want you, I want you more than I have ever wanted anyone in my life," he said, caressing her cheek. "Even Rebecca Mangiano in eleventh grade. And she was well, lets just say she had certain attributes that a 16 year old boy…"

"Will!"

"Right, I just want to do this…As much as I want you in my bed, I can't do that and not have it work out," he explained. "I'm just not that much of a masochist."

She gave him a coy smile and sat down. "You are. But you're right."

"Good, we eat, then maybe we go for a walk on the beach," he suggested., sitting across from her.

"I'm not sure I'm dressed for that," she said, taking a sandwich and some grapes.

He looked at her again, how could he forget, damn she looked sexy in his shirt. "We'll find something."

"Ok, sounds nice," she said, taking a bite of her sandwich. They discussed the weather and talked about a new song he was writing. She'd missed his music. It was just one of the many things that she missed about him, about them. He was a good man and she knew she'd never take that for granted again.

They finished their food and Mackenzie found a long white skirt in an upstairs bedroom. It was a couple of sizes too big, but she belted it and it would work. She met Will in the kitchen and he helped her on with her jacket.

"You know this is very civilized?" she said, following him out onto the deck, the wind causing her hair to fly wildly.

"What?" he asked, putting her hair behind her ear.

"Us, talking instead of ignoring our feelings, whatever they may be, or fighting or just trying to hurt each other."

"Maybe there's hope for us yet," he said, taking her hand and leading her out to the beach.

**A/N: Next chapter – They finally talk and Mac finds something that could derail everything.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Again, thanks to all the reviewers. I loves you all oh so very much. Also, there have been a lot of great fic posted in the last few weeks and I love being part of this fandom. I wrote this listening to 9 Crimes by Damien Rice. Someone over at Tumblr posted a Mac McHale playlist and I want to thank them for introducing me to this song. Now, down to business – This chapter is a VERY strong T rating. I tried to keep it as much out of M territory as possible. **

Mac fell into step beside Will as they walked from the deck to the beach. They walked quite a way in silence, only the sound of the waves and the occasional bird interrupting whatever inner dialogue each of them were having. Mac adjusted her hand in Will's and looked around at the beauty that surrounded them, the colors of the ocean and the sky and the changing colors of the fall. She hadn't noticed it on her way in. She'd only been focused on one thing – getting to Will.

"So," she started, squinting as she looked up at him.

He didn't reply at first, just looked straight ahead. He had to tell her the truth. Every conclusion he'd come to over the last five years about them had led to this moment. "When I was young, you know that my father get drunk and would hit my mother…I always blamed myself…if I wasn't such a disappointment, a better son, he would be happier, he wouldn't have to drink…."

Mac stopped, her sad eyes looking into his. "You were just a kid. You couldn't…"

He stopped her and continued walking. "I didn't say it was rational. That's just the way I felt. It took me a long time to accept that it wasn't my fault, to feel like I was worthy of someone's love and that I could love someone, without holding part of myself back. And until you, I didn't think that would ever happen. You were…"

He stopped and looked out over the water.

"…are…smart, beautiful, warm and funny and may I say, sexy as hell. You were a force of nature and I was so caught up in that force that I didn't see anything else. I didn't want to see anything else. So when you told me that you'd been sleeping with Brian for _four_ months…I haven't felt that kind of anger and self-doubt since I was a boy…"

Mac couldn't take any more. She felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. Her fight or flight response kicked in and she started to run down the beach, sobs racking her body as the full weight of what she'd done soaked into every pore. When she couldn't run anymore, she sank to the sand and put her head in her hands. _I'm horrible, I never deserved him,_ she told herself over and over, not even trying to stifle the anguish and guilt she felt. She deserved the pain. She deserved everything he's given her. Her chest felt as though it would explode right there and she wished it would. How could she ever look at him again?

Mac felt a hand on her shoulder and she could feel Will kneeling behind her. She had no right to seek comfort in his arms but she launched herself at his chest, crying so hard she could only see his outline and feel his chest beneath her fingers.

"Shhh," he soothed, kissing her hair. "Mackenzie."

Will sank from his knees to sit beside her on the sand. "I needed to tell you why...why I haven't been able to just pick up where we left off. Why I couldn't forgive you."

He could feel her sobs beginning to subside, but she still clung to him like a child who'd been lost.

"I never stopped loving you," he said, rubbing her back. "I never stopped."

Finally, Mac looked up at him, finding the courage from somewhere deep inside to look into his eyes. "You should hate me," she said, her words halting.

He held her face in his hands.

"I tried," he said. "I would love nothing more than to hate you, except for the fact that I can't help but love you."

"But…"

"But I also can't forget what you've done," he said honestly. Mackenzie sat up straight, bringing her knees to her chest, the white skirt falling over her legs. He looked into what he could see of her eyes. Her hair seemed to perpetually fall into them.

"I need to understand. Why? Why did you go back to him? I don't understand it. I've never understood it. Was it the sex? The age difference?"

Mac looked up imploring him with her eyes. "No, Billy. No. You make me feel things Brian never dreamed of. You knew just how to make me…" she said, blushing, remembering how he made love to her. "I'd never felt a connection to anyone like that before."

"Then I don't get it," he said emphatically. "Did you just need a hard fuck and I didn't do it for you?"

His crassness made he look at him in a way that she knew all of this was beneath him.

"Get this straight," she said. "It was never about the sex, Billy. Never… It was about the fact that my self esteem was so wrapped up in his rejection that if a douchebag like that couldn't love me that there was no way in hell that someone as wonderful as you could. Brian and I were together for years before he ever told me he loved me and even then it was only during sex. On our second date, you told be you couldn't see yourself not falling in love with me."

"I was already in love with you," he said, looking out over the rolling water. The sun peeked out from behind the clouds and the water looked like thousands of tiny reflective diamonds.

"I know," Mac whispered, running her fingers through the sand.

He watched her as the sun glinted off her hair. He was as in awe of her as he was when they first met. She'd broken his heart into tiny little pieces, but he was only now realizing that she was the one who'd made it whole in the first place.

"Mackenzie?" he whispered. When she looked up from the sand, he leaned forward and kissed her, barely brushing his lips over hers. He moved his hand to the back of her head and deepened the kiss, moving from exploring to passionate as if he couldn't get enough of a taste of her. Mac was surprised at first, but her hand went to his jawline as if to steady him, cradling his face. She could feel the stubble from where he hadn't shaved in a couple of days and the sense memory of it sent shivers through her body. They sat there in the sand kissing as if it were a substitute for breathing. Will leaned further forward and laid her back on the sand. He partially covered her, looking down into her soft brown eyes. They were questioning and while he didn't have the answers, he wanted her to be his again.

His hand moved under her skirt and up her leg. He closed his eyes relishing in the feel of her bare skin. Her hands were on his back and they weren't kissing anymore, merely experiencing the intimacy that had been unrealized between them in too many years. Every touch seemed like a holy pilgrimage to something neither of them could explain. It was them, unexplainable. After everything that had gone on between them, it didn't make sense. It was merely their nature when they came together. His hand stopped mid-thigh and he kissed her gently, moving down her jaw to her neck. She was wearing entirely too many clothes, but he was also very cognizant of where they were.

"We should head back," he whispered into hear ear, kissing along her hairline.

The sensation sent shivers down her spine. _No_, she thought, there was too much of a chance he'd change his mind. She didn't know if this was hello or goodbye, but she needed to be his again and she didn't want to wait anymore.

"No," she said, pressing into him and kissing him passionately. "No."

She wasn't making this easy. His desire was becoming increasingly uncomfortable, but they were out in the open for anyone to see and he'd had too much experience with tabloid press to chance it.

"Mac," he said in between kisses. "It's too open."

She stopped kissing him and hesitated for just a moment before and she pushed him off of her enough so that they could get up. She looked around and grabbed his hand leading him toward the line of trees. A few feet into the wooded area, she leaned back against the tree and pulled him to her hungrily. Her lips moving from passion to desperation, her hands roamed his back and held her against him. It took Will a moment to decide to go with it, but once he did, he lost himself in her, her hair and her smell and the freedom to touch her wherever he liked. He unzipped her jacked and she moved enough off the tree to let it fall to the forest floor. He watched her bite her bottom lip as he unbuttoned her shirt. His hands and lips making way over her breasts, heightened her desire. Mac hooked her leg around his and ground into him. She undid the button and zipper to his pants, letting his arousal free. He pulled up the long skirt and pulled down the boxers she was wearing until they were at her feet so she could step out of them. He felt her to make sure she was ready for him and she was more than ready. Raising her leg, she gently guided him into her and her breath hitched at the feeling of him being part of her again. He picked her up and held her against the large tree as his strokes increased in intensity. Mac's mouth fell to his neck, wishing his goddamn shirt wasn't in the way. He slowed his pace again. Pushing the skirt out of the way, he rubbed her clit until he could feel her teeth on his neck and the moans drowned into his skin.

"God, Billy. Yes."

She moved in time with him as he thrust harder. She couldn't help the tears that fell as she climaxed and clung to him. He could feel her tighten around him and he thrust faster until he joined her in completion. He held on to her as tightly as two human beings possibly could. He was still inside her and only when she loosened her grip did he release her. Her skirt fell back into place and Will zipped and buttoned his pants, never taking his eyes from hers. She smiled shyly and pulled him to her, kissing him gently.

"Are you ok?" she asked, looking down at his knee.

"I'm fine," he said, not caring what today's activities would do to his physical self. He felt too good right now to worry about it. He ran a hand from her collarbone down the still open front of her shirt. He opened it just enough to see the scar. The one she'd gotten in Islamabad. He dropped to his knees and kissed it pressing his head to her abdomen, imagining their child that had once grown in her. He took a moment before standing back up to kiss her.

"That's not the way I imagined it, imagined us being together again," he said.

She looked up at him, eyes shining. "I didn't want you to change your mind."

"I wouldn't have…"

"You might have."

When he didn't answer, she leaned up and kissed his cheek.

"We should head back," she said, taking his hand and back out onto the beach. They had just began the walk back, still holding hands, when a something in the sand caught her eye. It was a small, faded blue box. It was damaged from the rain the night before, but there was no denying that it was the box from Tiffany's. She picked up the still damp box and showed Will. She could tell from the weight that it was empty, but she opened it anyway. She looked at the hollow space where a ring box had once been.

"What are the odds?" she said, a lilt of laughter in her voice.

He looked down at the ground, unable to wash the guilty look from his face.

"Will?"

He hesitated. "The day I got here…I was just so angry and hurt…I still thought…"

"You still thought that I had an abortion," she finished with a finality to her voice.

"Yes."

"You threw the ring into the ocean," she said as a statement of fact instead of a question.

"Yes."

She stood there for a moment and looked from the water to the man she loved. _It __**was**__ goodbye,_ she thought. _It was goodbye_. She had to let him go for both of their sakes. Tears formed in her eyes and she tried to smile to reassure him, taking his hand again.

"I love you, Billy," she said simply, memorizing every line in his face and the feel of his fingers between her own.

Will's chest tightened. He'd seen that look before.

"I love you too, Mackenzie McHale," he said, a wordless bittersweet understanding between them.

The sun was beginning to set and the sky was ablaze as if a funeral pyre.

"Let's go back to the house," Mac said, propelling him along. "We can light a fire.."

"…open a bottle of wine," he added, squeezing her hand. "And?

"And we can say a proper goodbye," she said, knowing that this was the right thing to do.

When they got back to the house, Will built a fire and Mac opened the wine. They spent the night making love in front of the flames and only when the fire was merely embers, did they finally fall asleep. When Will woke in the morning, she was gone.


	7. Chapter 7

On his wedding day, Mac had sent him flowers and a note. It had been the first time he heard from her since that night in Maine a year before. It had been a short note of congratulations and he'd kept it in the breast pocket of his tux during the ceremony. It should have been a sign, but Will was a man of his word and he'd vowed to love and honor Nina, and he'd fully intended to. But as he sat there in his office, divorce papers in hand, he chastised himself. He should have known better.

Will put the signed papers back in the envelope. Nina would be very well compensated for his mistake. He took another drink of his Jameson's and looked out onto the city he loved. His show had been over for more than an hour and he'd watched most of the staff leave soon after. Don had popped into his office a few minutes ago to give him possible stories for tomorrow's show and to remind him that he still needed to pick an interim EP for News Night while he was out on maternity leave. The baby was due any day now and he and Sloan would be out for a few weeks. Every time Don said the word baby, his eyes lit up like it was Christmas and Will couldn't help but be happy for them.

Will turned off the light, leaned back in his chair and lit up a cigarette. It was this quiet time after the show that he really loved. He could bask in a job well done or wallow over some mistake they'd made. He could think and over the last few months he'd been thinking a lot. Will pulled out his phone and looked through the contact list and pushed the call button.

It rang three times before she finally picked up.

"Hello."

"Hey, it's me, Will."

"I know," she laughed.

There was an awkward pause.

She laughed again and it was the best thing he'd heard in years. "Did you call for a reason or just to hear me laugh at you?"

"That would be fine," he said, taking a long drag off a cigarette.

"You know I'll take any excuse to laugh at you, but it's the middle of the night here," she said, looking at the clock by her bed.

"You never sleep."

"That was only because a certain anchor was always calling his EP in the middle of the night," she teased. It was an easy banter that had been easy with him in the days before…

"Some of my best ideas happen in the middle of the night," he joked, he couldn't help the but think of the number of times he woken her up in the middle of the night for a story idea that he'd dreamed or thought of and sometimes he woke her up just so that he could make love to her.

"You still at the office?" she asked, snuggling into her bed.

"Yep, the show is done, the staff are gone and the papers are signed."

Mac was silent for just a beat. "I heard about you and Nina," she said trying to keep any and all emotion out of her voice.

"It was inevitable," he said almost happily.

"Why is that?" she questioned. It was unlike Will to be so cavalier about something as sacred as he took marriage.

"We both knew I was still in love with you," he said calmly.

Mac smiled as her heart skipped a beat. Leave it to him to put all of his cards on the table within two minutes of a conversation.

"And _we_ both know we've been down this road before," she said sadly. "There's too much water under the bridge."

"Well, I've been thinking about that and I say we burn that motherfucker down and build a new one," Will said resolutely.

"Will, we both know…"

"I don't know anything, except that we should go to dinner this weekend."

"You're in New York and I'm in London," she replied incredulously.

"Let me explain something to you, darling, there are these things called airplanes and they get me from point A to point B. And I have money, so I can pretty much get one any time I want."

"You're going to fly to London, just to have dinner with me?"

"Are you saying yes?"

"I'm…I'm saying…yes," she said, laughing again.

"8pm your time, Saturday night," he said, hopefully, his heart in his throat.

"It's a date," she replied.

There was silence again, as if neither of them wanted to let the other one go.

Finally, Mac spoke up. "I should get back to sleep and you should go to bed."

"I know."

He still didn't hang up.

"Will?"

"Yeah, Yeah. I know. It was good hearing your voice, Mac."

"You too."

"Good night."

"Good night."


	8. Chapter 8

**Note: Sorry it took so long to update. The last couple of episodes have played hell with my muse. Thanks again for all of the encouragement and reviews. They really do mean a lot. Just one or two chapters after this one. **

Leaning across the blanket, Will refilled Mackenzie's wine glass, watching her as she described the dinner she'd had with her parents the night before.

"…and Mum kept going on about how she's not getting any younger and I said who is?" Mackenzie said, taking a drink of the wine Will had just poured. "I mean she really should have had more children, it's all just a little too much for one person to live up to."

She just looked at Will as he stared at her. She laughed and leaned back on one arm. They were sitting on a blanket in the middle of her living room. Will had planned a dinner at a nearby restaurant, but she'd wanted him all to herself, so when he'd arrived she already had everything ready, food, wine, music, candles.

"This is perfect," he'd said, making himself at home. That had been two hours ago.

Will now sat across from her, watching her intently. The food having been mostly picked over and a second bottle of wine almost empty.

"Are you listening to me?" she said playfully.

"I am," he replied. "Your mother expects too much from you."

"Yes, she does," Mackenzie replied confidently. Her oversized sweater fell off her shoulder and she made no move to readjust it, hoping he'd notice. He did. "So how's work?"

"It's fine," he replied. "The new producer is doing ok, I guess….The team still misses you."

"I miss them too," she said solemnly wishing she hadn't brought it up. "Sloan was here a couple of months ago."

"She told me," he said, remembering every word Sloan had reported back to him. "You know you can come back any time you want. Charlie would be thrilled."

"You fired me, remember," she teased, popping another grape into her mouth.

"I also told you I didn't mean it," he defended.

"I know, I know, but we both knew if was for the best," she said reassuringly. "Besides, I'm actually enjoying teaching _and _I've almost finished my book."

Will's eyes went wide. Mackenzie had always wanted to write a book, but when she'd been producing, there had never been time. "Can I read it?"

"I was hoping you'd say that. I'd love to have another set of eyes before I send it to my editor."

"I'm intrigued and I can't wait to read it," he replied, finishing his glass of wine.

They sat there silently for just a moment, suddenly, Mac squealed, jumped up and ran to the adjoining kitchen of the small flat.

"I forgot about dessert," she said, rounding the corner and emerging with a plate with two cupcakes on it, one red velvet and a chocolate on chocolate with sprinkles.

Will couldn't help but laugh, he didn't know anyone north of ten who got as excited about a cupcake as Mackenzie did. He took the red velvet, his favorite, and Mac held up her chocolate cupcake as if in toast.

"Here's to a night spent in with good company and to cupcakes," she said happily, bumping her cupcake with his and then taking the biggest bite possible, closing her eyes as if it were a sensual experience. Will was more interested in watching her eat hers than eating his own. Mac relished every bite and then proceeded to eat half of his.

They sat there in silence again, letting the moment settle over them. A slow sad song filled the room and Mac's thoughts turned to the situation at hand.

"What are…" she began, nervously looking at her fingers. "what are we doing here?"

"We're having dinner."

"You know what I mean."

"Are you not having a good time?" he asked gently.

"I'm having a wonderful time," she answered, her smile reaching her eyes. "I just thought…I just thought we agreed that this...that there's been too much…"

"There's not been enough," he finished. "I want more."

"In Maine, I thought we had an understanding…"

"You had an understanding. You don't think that I can trust you, that I can forgive you. Well, I've spent the last two years trying to believe that. I even married another woman trying to prove it, but the simple fact is that I have forgiven you and while I can't forget, I also can't forget how you make me feel when I'm with you."

"Will…"

"Do you love me?"

Mac looked into his eyes, it was the first time she could remember him asking her directly.

"Yes," she said simply.

"Good," he said, taking her hand. He held it for a moment before rising and looking down at her with gentle affection in his eyes.

"Dance with me," he said.

Mac rose to his side. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her to him. She felt heavenly in his arms and he couldn't imagine another woman who fit as well. Nina had been a substitute and although he'd convinced himself that he'd loved her, he never could shake the feeling that it just wasn't right.

The song changed and "Have I Told You Lately That I Love You" began.

"Van Morrison?" he asked with a slight smile.

"It reminds me of you," she said happily. "Although I do prefer it when you sing it to me."

He pulled her as close to him as he could and sang to her as they danced. When the song was over, Mac went to her music player and put the song on repeat. She'd lost count of the number of times it had played when he finally pulled away from her.

"It's getting late," he said, still holding on to her waist. "I should go."

"Where are you staying?" she asked sadly, not ready to let him go.

"The May Fair," he said, putting a hand on her bare shoulder, needing to feel her skin.

"Nice," she replied, relishing in the feel of his hand. "Buuuuut, you could stay here."

She tried to sound as innocent as was humanly possible, looking up at him, eyes wide.

"You are adorable, but I am going to go back to my hotel. I would never want you to think that I only came here to get you back into my bed," he said, running his hand from her shoulder, up her neck to cup her cheek. "Besides, I have an early flight."

"You came all this way to have dinner with me?" she asked. She'd assumed that he'd be spending the night and she was more than a little disappointed. She should have learned a long time ago never to assume anything where Will McAvoy was concerned.

"I did," he said. "And it was worth every penny."

He leaned in and gently kissed her on the lips.

"When will I see you again?" she asked, enjoying the closeness.

"Two weeks," he answered as if he already had it all figured out. "There's a three day weekend and I plan on spending it with you…that is if you don't already have something planned."

"I do not," Mac said happily.

"Good, then I will see you in two weeks," he replied, moving to the sofa and getting his jacket.

Mac followed behind him, to the door. He opened it and turned to her.

"Thanks for dinner," he said, his voice almost a whisper. He leaned against the door and studied her face, although even if he lived to be a hundred, he'd never be able to forget it.

"Thank you for crossing an ocean to have it with me."

He leaned in and kissed her again. At first gentle, like before, but it soon turned more passionate, his tongue on her lips and then in her mouth, almost desperate. They broke apart only when he realized that if he didn't leave now, he would never leave.

"I'll call you tomorrow," he said, stealing one more quick kiss before disappearing down the stairs and into a waiting car. Leave it to Will to have a car service standing by.

Mackenzie watched the car pull away and only when she could no longer see it did she shut the door.

The next morning, the flowers arrived with a sweet hand written card. She looked at the clock, he would be on the plane by now. She typed out a quick email to let him know just how much she'd enjoyed last night and to thank him for the flowers. She'd call him later.

For the next several days, a package would arrive at the same time every day with something small to tell her he was thinking of her; a scarf from her favorite boutique in New York, a book, a letter.

She began to look forward to the daily affirmation of his feelings for her. It was a cheap substitute for the real thing, but it kept at bay the insecurities that they couldn't make this work.

She sent him her book and he sent her back notes on things she should take a look at again. They talked on the phone almost every day and on the days they didn't, they played phone tag and left each other messages of things that had happened during the day. The time difference was challenging and sometimes Mac found herself staying up half the night to call him after the show. She was beginning to thing she'd had more sleep as his EP than as his girlfriend and it wasn't even because they were shagging like bunnies. _Damn ocean_, she thought.

Two weeks after he'd left he was back on her doorstep. Mac practically flew into his arms, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. They spent the weekend with not so much as a piece of paper between them. They were practically making love before she shut the front door, both of them having decided that this chivalrous waiting was akin to torture. His mouth was on hers, his hands in her hair, teeth nipped and sucked, buttons popped and zippers were undone until a path of clothing was left behind like a breadcrumb trail to the bedroom. He'd wanted to wait, to let her know that she was more to him that what she could offer him physically, but he'd been kidding himself. He needed to be connected to her in every way, he always had. He lavished her with "I love you's" and when they finally consummated their relationship for the third time, he felt closer to her than he ever had and it was at that moment that if finally sunk in that this was forever and it had always been inevitable.

They spent the next three days doing all of the London touristy things that neither of them had ever done separately. They took long walks along the Thames and Mac took him to her favorite restaurants. They made love and talked about absolutely everything. It was as if they were living in their own alternate universe where only they existed.

Finally, on Monday afternoon, Will stood at Mackenzie's door, again.

"You should come with me," he said sadly.

Mackenzie couldn't help the tears in her eyes, but she mustered a smile as she looked up into his eyes. "I have classes tomorrow."

Will bowed his head. She had commitments in London, just like the ones he had back in New York.

"When will I see you?" she asked, a sudden sense of déjà vu.

"I have some charity thing next weekend and the weekend after that," he said resolutely.

"I have a thing with my father next weekend and then I'm grading finals for the next two weeks," she added.

Will ran his hand up and down her arms., soothing himself as much as her.

"So in a month?" he offered, trying to sound upbeat.

Mac rolled her eyes. There had to be a better solution.

"That's too long," she said, her voice catching in her throat.

"I know, but we've gone years without being together, so what's one month?" he reasoned.

"That just means we have time to make up for," she pouted.

"I know."

He squeezed her hands and brushed his lips against hers. They'd said their goodbyes in bed in the hours leading up to his departure. He turned to walk out the door and this time Mackenzie didn't have the strength to watch him go.

Thirty minutes after Will left, Mac heard her phone buzz letting her know she had a text message.

-"You and me in Maine in one month?"

She texted him back.

-"I'll be there."

Mackenzie smiled. In a month classes would be over and they could spend some real time together. In the span of a lifetime, what was one month?


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Thank you! Thank you! For all of the reviews. I believe this is the longest fic I've ever written and it's been my pleasure to spend so much time with Will and Mac. Sorry it took so long, I've been reading everyone else's great stories and haven't been working on my own. So, here's the final chapter.

"Two minutes, thirty seconds."

The instant the red light blinked off on the camera, Will reached for his phone. No new messages. He'd left London just a day ago and Mackenzie had been constantly in his thoughts. He'd texted her just before the show and she hadn't responded. Now that he could allow himself to picture a life with her again, he couldn't stand to be apart from her. All he had to do was finish one last segment and the show would be over. She would call and the time and space that separated them would seem a little smaller, if only for a little while. She owned him from nine to ten every night, and well pretty much any other time as well.

Will straightened in his chair, mentally preparing himself for the red light to come back on and the broadcast to continue. He looked at his notes for the last segment, going over the finer points of the final story.

"Ten seconds, Billy."

Will's head jerked up, immediately looking toward the control room, even though with the damn lights, he could barely see past his desk. He could have sworn he heard…

The light came back on and Will began reading from the teleprompter, but he was completely on automatic pilot at that point. He turned to the guest, but he had no clue what he was saying and he wouldn't be able to ask a follow-up question if his life depended on it. How the hell was he going to go a month without seeing her if he couldn't last a day without losing his shit on air and hearing voices?

"Ask her about the editorial published yesterday in the Dallas Morning News."

It _was _her. She was in his ear again. Will couldn't hide the huge grin his heart was sending to his face. The 1.5 million people watching were going to think he'd finally snapped, but he couldn't stop smiling.

He asked the follow up question and waited for the answer. Then moved on to the next question.

"Atta boy."

Will finished up the interview, somehow managing to pull himself together long enough to thank the guest and wrap it up.

"That's News Night, Terry Smith's up next with the Capitol Report. I'm Will McAvoy, good night."

He didn't even have time to get out of his chair when she barged through the studio doors.

"It _was_ you," he said, looking at her as if she could be an apparition. "I thought I was losing my mind."

"Well, one does not preclude the other," Mackenzie replied, grinning from ear to ear.

He walked slowly toward her as if she would vanish if he rushed her, but as he reached her and took her into his arms, he could feel that she was indeed very real. Mac buried her face in his neck, holding onto him tightly.

"What are you doing here, I thought you had classes?" he said into her hair.

"I can go…"

"No."

He pulled back to look at her, still in shock that she was actually there back in the newsroom with him. It had been little more than 24 hours since he'd last seen her, but that had been way too long.

"When you left, I tried to tell myself that a month wasn't that long, I mean, hey what's thirty days, but after you'd been gone a couple of hours, I said 'Fuck it', called the university and worked out a plan to finish up the classes remotely and here I am."

Will ran his hands over her shoulders. "Yes, you are."

He couldn't take his eyes off her. Apparently neither could the staff. Will took Mac's hand and walked back through the newsroom. A group had gathered around Jim's desk, all of them smiling and happy to see their former EP. Mac gave each of them a hug, Jim and Sloan the biggest of all. She'd missed them, they would always feel like family to her.

"It's really good to see you," Jim said sincerely, hugging her again. Mac was big sister and mentor all in one.

"You too," she said, ruffling his already messy hair.

Mac spent the next half hour catching up, most things she'd heard from Sloan or Will, but she was happy just being there with them.

"Ok, ok, my turn," Will said, his arm around Mackenzie. "Go do some news."

The group started to disperse, but Mac couldn't help but make eye contact with Jim. His smile was reassuring and she nodded in acknowledgement. They were all ok, she had taught them well.

Mac followed Will to his office. Before the door could close, his lips were on hers, desperate, needy, hungry. His hand went to her hair and the other to the small of her back, holding her to him. Mac held onto him, as desperate for him as he was for her.

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming?" Will asked, leaning his forehead on hers.

"Where would the fun be in that?" she teased. "You should have seen your face when you realized it was me in your ear."

Will leaned back a little to look at her. She had an utterly mischievous look about her, one of the many facets that he loved about her.

He took her hand and kissed it. "How long can you stay?"

Mac twisted shyly on her feet. "How long do you want me to stay?"

"Oh, I don't know, I'll need to check my calendar…"

She gently pushed him, but he caught her wrist and pulled her to him.

"Forever, I want you to stay forever," he whispered, his lips at her temple.

"I'll see what I can do. Why don't you go change and you can take me home and we can start on that forever thing," Mac said, pulling his tie loose.

"Give me two minutes," he replied bending down to give her a quick kiss on the lips.

Two hours later, Will lay in his bed, a naked Mackenzie on his chest. Only the lights from the city illuminated the room, but it gave it a Christmasy, romantic glow. Who needed candles when they had New York City. They'd made love twice already, not even making it to the bedroom the first time.

"Can I ask you a question?" Mackenzie said, thankful for the darkness.

"Just give me a few minutes and yes, we can definitely go for round three," he replied easily.

Mac giggled. God, how she loved this man.

"I'm serious," she said, running her hand over his chest.

"Anything. You can ask me anything."

Mac hesitated for a moment trying to find the right words. "Do you think…I want…I think I want…."

"Mac."

"I want to have another child," she said finally, letting the words settle in the air, mentally preparing herself in case he didn't feel the same way.

"Ok," he replied simply, lazily stroking her arm.

"That's it?" she laughed. "All you have to say is ok?"

"Let's get it on seemed inappropriate, but…" he said, kissing her deeply, reaching down to cup her ass and pull her onto him.

Maybe it was that simple. They'd had to come completely undone to really be able to put it all back together. And now it was better than it ever had been. Could it really be that easy?

"I love you, Billy," Mackenzie said. She kissed him thoroughly, feeling his growing desire for round three. They made love again, this time slowly, relishing in the fact that they could be together again, this time for good.

_Six weeks later…  
_

Wishing she'd brought a thicker sweater, Mackenzie pulled her jacket closer to her body. It was quite a bit colder than the last time they'd been in Maine. The first snow had fallen two days ago, but hadn't left any remnants other than a chill in the air. She'd spent the last few weeks finishing up her classes and having the rest of her belongings shipped back to New York. Her book was now with her editor and she was even in talks with ACN to do a weekly Sunday evening news show. She had never been happier.

Mac held onto Will's hand as they walked along the beach. They passed the alcove of trees where they'd had sex for the first time (at least the second first time). She glanced up at Will, who was smiling back at her, a knowing look in his eye. She raised a questioning eyebrow.

"No," he replied. "I couldn't walk straight for a week after that."

"Neither could I, but in a good way," she teased, holding onto his arm.

They walked a little further, the wind coming around the bend making it feel even colder. Mackenzie's hair whirled around her head. She pulled on Will's arm, causing him to stop. She looked up at him, wondering how she'd been so lucky to have a second chance with the perfect guy.

"Mac?"

"I never thought I'd be here," she began, holding her hand up to his chest. "That I'd get another chance to be with you, to love you."

"Mackenzie…"

"Just give me a minute…You, Billy, are the love of my life. My only love. I want to spend every day celebrating what we have, it's a miracle," Mac paused for a minute before bending down on one knee, holding his hand in hers. "William Duncan McAvoy, will you marry us?"

The neurons firing in his brain went into overdrive. One knee, marry, us? She never ceased to surprise and amaze him.

"Us?"

Mackenzie smiled.

"His name is Junior or Juniorette if it's a girl," she replied matter of factly, still on one knee. "And he/she thinks we should get married. I don't have a ring or anything , but I love you and want to spend my life with you and this may sound stupid, but I want that piece of paper that says you are mine and I am yours and we are…."

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes."

"Thank god," she replied, getting up and throwing her arms around him. "I was running out of words."

"I don't think we're in any danger of that happening," he replied, kissing her head.

"So we're getting married," she said happily as a statement of fact.

"And unless I misunderstood something, you're, we're having a baby," he said happily, pulling her into a deep kiss.

"Yes," she replied between kisses. She nuzzled into him, his warmth spreading through her. "We are. I confirmed yesterday."

"I think we should go back to the house and celebrate," he whispered, his hand sliding down to her stomach. "I plan on showing you just how much I love you."

"The tree is closer," she said playfully.

"Mackenzie…"

Mackenzie started running off toward the house, mocking him along the way. Will chased after her. It didn't take long for him to catch up, falling into her, sending them both to the sand, him on top of her. He immediately tried to pull away, terrified that he might have hurt her or the baby.

"It's fine, Will," she said, pulling him back on top of her. "You didn't hurt me."

"Juniorette?" he asked, worry lining his face..

"We're fine," she said laughing, kissing him.

"And I'm going to make sure it stays that way," he replied, pushing his hands into the sand to maneuver himself off of her. His hand hit something hard in the sand, thinking it was a rock or shell, Will pulled it out of the sand. He sat back on his knees. It wasn't a shell. It was a ring. It was _the_ ring. The one he'd thrown into the ocean the day he'd thought he would never be happy again.

Mackenzie sat up, looking at his hand.

"Is that…what I think it is?"

Will nodded. He'd thrown it into the ocean, a reminder of the life he'd thought he'd never have. The live he had now.

Will looked to Mac, eyes questioning. Mackenzie looked again at the beautiful ring and smiled, nodding her head. Will met her smile and pushed himself up to his feet, Mackenzie right beside him. He wound up and threw it back out into the water, this time even further than before. He looked down at the woman he loved and a calm washed over him like the waves lapping at the shore. Their old life was gone…the new one would be much better than he ever could have imagined.

"Come on," she said, tugging at his arm. "We have some celebrating to do."

Will put his arm around her and they continued down the beach.


End file.
